Bundori: A Novel Of Japan

Chapter 6

A cold spring twilight descended upon the Asakusa temple district in the north of Edo. The rooftops of the shrines and temples curved and peaked against a radiant cerise sky. Bells tolled, their harmonious music winging over the western hills, the river, and the city. In the lanes that crisscrossed the district, paper lanterns glowed from the eaves of inns, shops, and food stalls, where pilgrims flocked, seeking food and shelter after their journeys and prayers. Orange-robed priests filed into the monasteries for their evening rites. Voices and laughter rang out; a cheerful serenity reigned.

Through the rippling tide of humanity strode the Bundori Killer. Barely aware of his surroundings, he ignored the noise, the crowds, the welcoming lights. His fellow men threw him uneasy glances, perhaps frightened by his air of grim purpose. Well, let them look. Let them stand in awe of Lord Oda’s war hero. He headed for the Asakusa Kannon Temple, which shone like an enchanted fortress amid the lanterns that blazed within its grounds. The first two murders had whetted his appetite for more, and made him yearn harder for the past. Soon he would face another battle, and he must pray for victory.

☼

In the sweltering confines of his lamplit field tent, Lord Oda Nobunaga paced before the generals summoned to this urgent night meeting.

“My traitorous brother-in-law, Asai, has allied himself with Lord Asakura of Echizen,” he fumed.

During the ten years since the Battle of Okehazama, Oda had risen to the forefront of military power. He had crushed many rivals and gained an important ally, Tokugawa Ieyasu. He’d seized the capital at Kyōto. At times he seemed invincible and his eventual subjugation of the country a certainty. But the news of Asai’s treachery, coming on the eve of his planned assault upon Lord Asakura’s territory, drew murmurs of consternation from Oda’s generals, among whom the Bundori Killer now numbered.

“Asai controls the passes of northern Omi Province,” General Tokugawa Ieyasu said. “He’ll ambush our army there before we can reach Echizen.”

Bravely the Bundori Killer said what needed saying. “Then we must retreat now, so that we may live to triumph later.” As all heads turned toward him, the young upstart, he added, “I will command the rear guard.”

And pray that I can fend off Asai and Asakura long enough for my lord to reach Kyōto safely, even if I must die in the effort.

☼

Outside Asakusa Kannon Temple, pilgrims clustered around a huge stone urn full of smoldering incense sticks. Some pilgrims were lame, others diseased. Chanting prayers, they cupped their hands to capture the healing smoke that rose from the vat, applying it to the affected parts of their bodies. The Bundori Killer marched past them to the temple’s main entrance. Doves, heavenly messengers of Kannon, goddess of mercy, cooed and fluttered in the eaves. He entered the temple and crossed the hushed, cavernous hall.

The day’s worshippers had deserted the temple. Two priests brushed past him, treading silently on bare feet, as he stood alone at the altar. He beheld the many-armed gilded statue of Kannon, the stalks of sacred golden lotus, the painted murals, the flickering candles and smoking incense burners that bathed everything in a shimmering golden haze. Then he bowed his head in prayer.

O, Kannon, let my troops crush the enemy forces. Let my victories follow one after another, as a tribute to my Lord Oda.

And then, because he was not so lost in the past that he’d forgotten the duties and dangers of his present-day reality:

I pray, let me destroy those who must be punished for the evil they have done. And those who dare stand in my way-especially the shogun’s sōsakan.

He dropped a coin in the offertory box to speed his prayers to the goddess, then left the temple. Outside, the sky had darkened; the crowds had almost disappeared. Only a few lanterns still burned in the streets. He joined the travelers on the road that led out of Asakusa. One hundred and nineteen years past, Lord Oda’s army had clashed with Lord Asakura and the traitor Asai. But in the here and now, would the man he sought to kill fall before his sword tonight? Would he win another trophy to satisfy the debt of honor that had gone unfulfilled for so long?

For a moment, he pondered the practical difficulties of finding his next victim and avoiding capture. Then, with a giddy, ecstatic rush, he relinquished his hold on the ordinary world and slid into his dream realm.

☼

Spring had given way to hot, humid summer. Lord Oda’s army had survived Asai’s ambush and returned safely to Kyōto, thanks to the Bundori Killer’s masterful deployment of the rear guard. Now the time had come to crush Asai and Lord Asakura for good. Lord Oda’s troops were on the march again, moving quietly by night, on horseback and on foot, beneath a swollen yellow moon, toward Asakura’s headquarters.

The Bundori Killer led his unit. Inside his armor, sweat trickled down his back and chest. Scouts had just brought news that Asai and Asakura had marshaled twenty thousand troops across the Anegawa River. His metal helmet amplified the pounding of his heart, almost drowning out the sounds of the army’s hoofbeats and footsteps, and the insect chants from the woods around them.

Under his command he had the troops levied from among Oda’s conquered foes. Had they really transferred their allegiance to their new lord? Could he trust them?

He hid his doubt and his youth behind the imperious bearing of a seasoned general who expects and receives obedience. The army marched on toward glory, or death. The moon reached its zenith and began to descend.

“Listen!” someone murmured.

From a distance came the faint pulse of war drums. Oda’s drummers struck up a thunderous counterthreat. The army increased its pace. Hooves pounded; thousands of swords rasped free of their scabbards. The troops took up positions on the riverbank, gunners and archers in the forefront, then swordsmen and spear fighters, with the generals in the rear.

Suddenly the drumming stopped. As the Bundori Killer gazed across the dark water at the waiting enemy host, his anxiety disappeared; he knew no fear or doubt. It was every samurai’s duty to win his lord’s battles, or to die trying. With stoic resignation, he awaited Lord Oda’s command.

The menacing silence lasted an eternity. The hot night was perfectly still. Then Lord Oda’s cry shattered the calm.

From the river’s opposite bank came Lord Asakura’s answering challenge.

Amid murderous shouts and deafening gunfire, both armies plunged across the water.